


Across the Divide

by trascendenza



Series: Paradox-a-day 'verse [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Threshold
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-30
Updated: 2009-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-07 13:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nigel's at the end of his rope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the Divide

**Author's Note:**

> For my reference: [mirror](http://lastwordslinger.livejournal.com/431414.html?thread=3646006#t3646006).

"Fenway," Molly snapped, raising her hand and pointing to the door. "Go. You're no good to us like this."

"Oh, _I'm_ no good --"

She took a step forward, crossing her arms. "What were we just talking about?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What were we just talking about? What am I, an Alzheimer's patient?" Nigel scoffed. His eyes were burning and his joints screamed in protest at every move, but damned if he'd let on.

"Go on," Molly said. "Tell me."

Nigel opened his mouth, ready to tell her _exactly_ what he thought of her stupid little tests and where she could take her orders and stuff them --

And then he realized he had no idea.

"Just a quick nap," he grumbled, and Molly didn't smile or gloat, and that was the worst sign of all, that he was so far gone that it wasn't even funny anymore.

*

"You look like hell," Beverly said, her eyes going wide when she saw him.

"Thanks," he said sardonically, sitting down against the tree, his entire body aching just like it had when he was awake. He couldn't help thinking that the universe had it out for him today -- what the hell were the perks of dreaming if, even here, he was going to look like shit and feel even worse?

"Sorry," she said, and he tilted his head to look at her, the sun falling on her face.

Well. Maybe not totally against him.

"It's not your fault," he said, putting a hand on her knee. The material of her uniform felt smooth, almost too smooth -- he'd gotten used to it through the months, and the tension in his shoulders melted as he ran his fingers along it. "It's been -- there's..."

He trailed off, throat closing.

"Oh, no," she said, and instantly her hand was gripping his, anchoring him. "Who?"

"My brother," he said, eyes unseeing as he stared out at that meadow in front of them. "He doesn't have long."

Beverly shifted until she was kneeling in front of him, and he'd expected a lot of things from her -- pity, compassion, attempts to reassure him -- but what he hadn't expected was the set of her jaw, or the way she reached her hands up and held his face, not letting him look away.

"Nigel," she said firmly, and her skin was warm on his, "tell me everything."

And he almost said something about the Prime Directive, or the fact that, as much as he wanted to believe this was real, he couldn't base any sort of real life decision on a _dream_, but when he met her eyes all the words dried up.

"He was infected two days ago," came out instead, and the rest of the story not long after.

*

"It sounds risky," Molly said, staring at Dave on the bed. "Are you sure about this?"

Nigel thought about when they were kids, Dave trying to cajole Nigel away from the books into the yard with a football, how whenever he laughed, he did it with his entire body, how Nigel had always known, no matter what, that he could count on his big brother.

"I have to try," he said, and prepared the syringe.

*

"We've halted the progress of the infection," Nigel explained to Dave, who was awake again. He was pale, but his fever had broken and he watched Nigel attentively. "And I'm -- I'm not going to lie to you. We haven't figured out how to cure it completely. But the alternative --"

Dave shook his head. "The look on your face tells me that I don't wanna know."

"I'm not going to give up on this," Nigel said, his fingers digging into Dave's shoulder.

"I know, man," Dave said, patting Nigel's arm. "I know."

*

Nigel said in the large armchair he'd brought into the infirmary, watching his brother's vital signs for awhile, getting lost in the regular rhythm.

When sleep pulled at him, he didn't resist, pulling the thin flannel blanket around him and leaning his head back.


End file.
